The Agony of Love
by ReelTreble
Summary: Many years have past since the pack found a way to remove the Nemeton from their plane of existence. Now in their thirties, Stiles and Lydia are married with a daughter, but in Beacon Hills nothing can stay safe for long. "From the moment we open our hearts to love we give our enemies the ultimate weapon against us, Mrs. Stilinski. I'm just using yours to ensure your help."
1. Chapter 1

Hello all Teen Wolf fans! I cannot wait for season six to start and of course STYDIA! So to help me pass the agonizing one week wait for the premiere I decided to write a stydia future fic. Enjoy!

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Chapter one

Early morning light gleamed through a sliver of open deep red curtains as the beginnings of the sun's rays stretched across two sleeping bodies. Just as the light reached their pillows the strawberry-blond woman was pulled gently from her slumber. Cracking her green eyes open Lydia felt a smile tugging at her lips as she was greeted by the sight of her husband next to her. His mouth was hanging open slightly while his breath released small snoring noises and his hair was sticking out at every angle possible in an untamed chaos. The woman sighed with content and reached over to run her slender fingers through her husband's dark-brown hair, noting a few grey strands beginning to appear along his temple. The light had reached his face bringing Lydia's sight to the pattern of moles scattered across the sleeping man's jawline. Stiles unconsciously leaned into Lydia's touch and her smile grew.

Lydia still couldn't believe this was her life. Since she was a young girl she always wanted to graduate from a good college, get a well paying job, marry the perfect man, have children, and just be happy. That was the plan. Then in high school her world turned into a horror movie with werewolves, a boyfriend that turned into a giant lizard, dark Druids, and so many other crazy things she never thought existed. Of course, Lydia also found out she was one of those unbelievable things…a banshee from legend. After all of that her goals become much different. They became about surviving and making sure her friends survived. Gone was the time she ever thought she could have a normal life, but again everything changed.

As senior year was coming to an end the pack came across a way to finally quiet Beacon Hills once more. A way to remove the Nemeton from their plane of existence and with it the supernatural beacon that drew dark creatures in. Though, to do it they needed someone or something that could communicate on different wavelengths. Someone whose power could transcend even the fabric of life and death. With Deaton's help Lydia was able to use her powers to do just that, and a normal life was once again possible.

Lydia was broken from her thoughts by the patter of little feet bounding toward their bedroom in a rush. Knowing exactly what was coming next she removed her hand from Stiles' hair, prompting a slight creasing of his forehead.

Lydia sat up just in time to see the small figure of pale skin freckled with moles, and long strawberry-blond hair zoom into the room and barrel onto the bed. "Mommy, Daddy! Get up! I haf-ta get ready for SCHOOL!"

Stiles jerk awake and flailing tumbled off the bed to the carpeted ground. Lydia began chuckling at her husband's expense. Shrill laughter quickly joined as Stiles popped his head up and raised an eyebrow. "You could have warned me, Lyds."

Lydia looked up as if in thought. "Now why didn't I think of that?"

"School! I can't wait, Daddy! Let's go! I want to go to school! HURRY!" The young strawberry blond chanted in excitement as she ran through every room on the bottom floor. Her hair flaring behind her like a cape in the wind.

"Ally you've been going to school for a whole month already. Shouldn't the novelty have worn off by now?" Stiles said tiredly from his seat at the kitchen table.

Lydia moved behind her husband and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "I don't think that will be happening any time soon." She whispered in Stiles' ear with a smile adoring her face.

Stiles sighed and dropped his head back against the chair, looking into Lydia's green eyes. "Whose idea was it to have a kid again? I feel like that was your fault."

"Uh ah, nope, no way! You are not putting this on me, Stilinski. That perfect little monster is all your doing." Lydia's voice practically sang with the joy she felt.

Stiles hummed and without warning pulled Lydia onto his lap. The banshee yelped in surprise but it quickly turned into laughter before being cutoff completely with Stiles lips gently connecting with hers.

"Daaaddy!" Allison whined from the threshold of the kitchen. The noise pulling Stiles and Lydia apart.

Stiles looked passed his wife encircled in his arms. "Alright baby girl, I'm coming. Make sure you have your backpack all set. Do you have your show and tell ready?"

Allison placed her hands on her hips in a spitting image of a young Lydia Martin. "I put Mr. Snuffles in my bag last night Daddy. Mommy helped me remember?!"

Lydia raised her perfectly manicured eyebrow at Stiles, trying not to laugh at his flabbergasted expression. Stiles looked from his daughter to Lydia accusingly. "This is your fault."

Lydia bit her lips before speaking. "What can I say? The women in my family have always been strong and sassy. That's what you love about me."

The dark-haired man had a look of pure love and admiration showing brightly through his warm eyes. "That and so much more."

Lydia hummed in approval and took both of Stiles' hands in hers, pulling her husband to his feet. "What time will you be done at the station?"

"In time to pick Allison up from school. We'll head over to Scott's for a bit, probably with ice cream in our bellies, before I drop her off with my dad." Stiles said as he checked his pockets, clearly looking for something.

Lydia knew exactly what her husband was searching for and passed him his phone, which was sitting on top of the counter next to the coffeemaker. "Is John sure he doesn't mind taking Allison for the night?"

Stiles sighed, "Lyds, come on. It's our anniversary. Of course my dad doesn't mind watching her. He loves his little princess. Besides, I think he'll have help from Melissa anyways."

"Daaady! I'm gonna be late if we don't hurry!" Allison whined from the front doorway, bag in hand, and one foot already out the door.

Stiles stuck out his arm as an invitation. "Walk me to my jeep?" He asked Lydia with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Without hesitation Lydia hooked her arm through Stiles' while also reaching out to take their daughter's hand as the small family made their way out-the-door.

* * *

Lydia checked the time on her iPhone again and grumbled in annoyance. She was running late and if she didn't get home in the next twenty minutes she wouldn't have nearly enough time to get ready for the evening. After a moment the strawberry-blond realized that the last time she had heard from Stiles was hours ago when he was heading to pick Allison up from school. Hitting Stiles' contact information on her favorites list she brought the phone to her ear. The connection went to his voicemail after a minute, prompting Lydia to roll her eyes. ' _Hi you've reached the phone of Stiles Stilinski. I'm most likely off saving the world from an evil supernatural creature…or I just couldn't reach the phone in time. Leave a message and I'll call you back at my earliest convenience.'_

"Wow, you must be having a really good time at Scott's since you didn't text me to let me know you dropped Ally off at your dad's yet. I lost track of time and am just leaving work now. I've been distracted for some reason today…don't freak out or anything though. It could be a banshee thing or nothing. Just…call me okay? I'll be home soon if I don't hear from you before then. But I better get a call, Stilinski! Otherwise, you're not getting any tonight, if you know what I mean."

Lydia disconnected the call and stared at her phone, biting her lip as an uneasy feeling built stronger in her chest. Almost to her car the only noise around was the continuous clicking of her five-inch green heels and some birds chirping overhead.

"Mrs. Stilinski?" A sudden and timid voice sounded just behind the distracted woman.

Startled Lydia whipped around to the unknown woman that addressed her and asked with apprehension, "Yes?"

The woman had light caramel colored hair, black framed square glasses, and short button nose. She was taller than Lydia, but only just, and had a friendly smile brightening her face. "My name is Helen. I'm hoping you could help me with something. Could we talk for a moment?"

Lydia relaxed slightly at Helen's friendly demeanor. "I'm actually running late for a date night with my husband. Maybe I can direct you to someone else? What kind of help do you need?"

"I'm afraid Mrs. Stilinski," A man's deep voice spoke just behind Lydia's shoulder. "The help we need only you can provide."

The strawberry-blond jumped when the new voice entered the conversation. She turned to see a tall man with spiky black hair, well-dressed, gazing down at her with dark intimidating eyes. Lydia took a few steps away from the man who was now blocking the path to her car and squeezed her phone tightly. "I really don't care that you need my help. I'd like to leave. Now move out-of-my-way or I'll call the police." Lydia tried to hide the fear she was feeling but even she could hear it laced through her words.

The man frowned. "I'm sorry you feel that way. Perhaps this might change your mind?"

He held out a cell phone towards Lydia, but she backed away shaking her head. Not getting very far she accidentally bumped into Helen. Feeling immediately trapped Lydia swung a closed fist, aiming for Helen's head, but the deceptively frail-looking woman stopped the blow before it could even get close.

Squeezing Lydia's wrist tightly, the woman never lost her gentle tone of voice. "Please, Lydia. We wouldn't have done what we did if we weren't desperate."

She knew what they did. Deep down in her soul Lydia knew something was wrong. Knew what was on that phone, but she couldn't believe it. Everything was going so well in their lives. She knew, but felt her lips ask the question anyways. "What…what have you done?"

Helen took the phone from her colleague and held it in Lydia's line of sight. On the illuminated screen was exactly what the banshee feared. A picture of Stiles and their little girl Allison was displayed. Where they were being held she couldn't tell, but Lydia could see the terror in her daughter's tear-filled eyes, as well as the blood trailing down from behind her husband's ear.

Lydia couldn't pull her horrified gaze from the picture of her family. That is, until the man spoke again, bringing her furious watery green eyes to glare at him. "We need a banshee. No harm will come to them as long as you cooperate. You will **not** call anyone from your pack for help. You will **not** try to run from us. And you **will** do everything we ask without question. Do you understand?"

Lydia nodded numbly, not trusting the steadiness of her voice.

Helen rubbed her arms in a comforting manner that only made the banshee feel sick to her stomach. "That's good, Lydia. Now we're going to take you to see your family and our leader will explain everything you need to know. Give me your keys."

* * *

The first thing Stiles Stilinski became aware of as he slowly climbed himself out of unconsciousness was just how cold he felt. Next came the agonizing pounding assaulting his head. The pain so great it almost overpowered the aching in his shoulders. Having been the recipient of a few concussions in his life Stiles knew immediately that was to blame for the pain spiking through his head now. Vaguely the thought crossed his mind of how he would now have to spend his anniversary night in the hospital and that Lydia was going to kill him.

Thinking of his wife brought the dark-haired man's thoughts to his daughter who was with him when they were attacked. The injured man racked his brain for the last thing he remembered. He remembered telling Allison to run, but then everything turns black. Fearing for his daughter's safety Stiles snapped his eyes open, regretting the action immediately as the light from the room sent a wave of agony shooting through his skull.

Hoping to dull the aching pain, Stiles tried to bring his hands to his temple only to have the action halted by metal restraints encircling his wrists behind his back. Groaning, he opened his eyes once more; this time slower. His vision was slightly blurry, but Stiles was still able to make out the small room he was in, as well as the tiny mound curled up next to him on the hard bed.

Clearing his throat Stiles called out to his daughter in a scratchy voice. "Ally, baby girl. Are you alright?"

The small pale girl shot up suddenly and looked at her dad with wide tear-filled eyes. "Daddy! I…I cou-couldn't wa-waake you up!" The young child cried hysterically and lunged at Stiles, clinging tightly around his neck.

Stiles swallowed the burning of his own tears before resting his head atop his trembling daughter's. "Shh, it's okay; I'm fine. You know how hard it is for Mommy to wake Daddy up sometimes. Everything's going to be okay."

Allison pulled back enough to look Stiles in the eyes. "But you have an owie on your head."

Stiles smiled. "It doesn't even hurt. Don't you worry about that. Are you hurt anywhere, baby girl?"

Tears still sliding slowly down her mole freckled face Allison shook her head. "No." Sniffling the little girl began crying a little harder and buried her face into Stiles' aching shoulder. "I want Mommy."

Stiles closed his whiskey-colored eyes with his daughter's plea, and released a shaky breath. "I know, Ally. But do you know what?" After feeling his daughter shake her head against his shoulder the injured man continued. "Mommy is going to be looking for us…she probably already is. Then she'll tell Grandpa and Uncle Scott and they'll come find us."

"Because of Uncle Scott's super nose?" Allison asked, having finally calmed down and stopped crying.

Stiles huffed a laugh. "Exactly because of Uncle Scott's super nose. We just have to wait for a little bit longer. I promise nothing will happen to you."

"Okay, Daddy." Allison said crawling into her father's lap, resting her head against his chest, and holding tightly to the fabric of his black t-shirt.

"That's my girl." Stiles' whispered as he leaned against the wall behind him, being careful to not put too much pressure on his bound wrists.

Not long after, the only door to the small room opened and a tall man dressed in a navy blue button-down and black pants walked in. Stiles sat up straighter and quickly prompted Allison to move behind him, telling her to stay there no matter what happened.

"Don't worry, Mr. Stilinski. If we wanted to hurt your daughter we would have done so already." The man calmly stated as he pulled up a chair and sat down in-front of Stiles and Allison, leaning back to get comfortable.

Flexing his bound hands nervously the dark-haired man glared in a way he hoped was intimidating. "Who are you? Why have you brought us here?!"

"All in time. I only came in here to offer you a deal."

Stiles looked at the black-haired man with apprehension. "What is it?"

The man looked at Allison for a moment, making Stiles' heart stutter. "I'm sure you would like to be able to comfort your daughter. I would like to not have to restrain a child so our desires are aligned at the moment."

"I'm not sure I'd go that far."

Smiling at Stiles' comment the man continued. "I propose a mutual…understanding if you will."

Unexpectedly, he leaned closer to Stiles, his jaw-length black hair falling forward from where it was tucked behind his ears, framing his face. "If I were to move the handcuffs to your front you would be able to keep your daughter calm. However, you will not use that added mobility to try to escape in any way or I will not only return the cuffs behind you, but I will repeat the process with your lovely child."

Allison's grip on Stiles' shoulders increased sharply and she ducked her head behind his back.

The action seemed to amuse the man, making him chuckle lightly. "Do we have an understanding?"

The last thing Stiles wanted to do was cooperate for this man, but he had to think of his daughter. So clenching his teeth and taking a steadying breath he answered. "Yes. We have an understanding."

His captor's deep blue eyes sparked with glee. "Excellent."

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End of chapter one! Thank you so much for reading! Please review to let me know what you thought of the beginning of this story and if you would like me to continue. Also remember to click on the follow and/or favorite button to make sure you never miss an update! Until next time...


	2. Chapter 2

Hello all! Teen Wolf starts tonight and I am trying my very best to hold my excitement in! I'm not doing a great job of it. Haha! Thank you to everyone who has added me and this story to their follow/favorite lists! I really appreciate all of your support. A quick disclaimer: I am not a medical professional by any means and all medical talk in this story is most likely inaccurate. Enjoy chapter two!

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Chapter Two

Stiles felt his eyes drifting closed once again, as he struggled to stay awake. The young man knew his concussion was causing his fatigue and that worried him. Having grown up with a nurse as his unofficial second mother Stiles knew fatigue after a head wound was not a good sign. Peeling his whiskey-colored eyes open Stiles shook his head, trying to clear the fogginess invading his mind, but instantly regretted the action as the room spun uncontrollably. Squeezing his lids closed against the spinning the dark-haired man swallowed down his sudden nausea, and began breathing deeply, willing away the overwhelming sick feeling.

As if sensing his discomfort Allison shifted slightly in her father's arms bringing Stiles back to his senses. Reopening his eyes and looking down Stiles' concerned gaze swept over his sleeping daughter. Allison's cheeks still held a tint of blotchy red from crying herself to sleep what felt like about an hour ago, while her small hand clutched desperately to the fabric of Stiles' shirt. Her forehead creased and she twitched every-so-often from whatever nightmare invaded her sleeping thoughts. Trying to soothe away her fears Stiles did his best to rub her back with his bound hands, shushing her softly.

The door to their 'cell' opened without warning, yanking Stiles' attention away from his daughter and to the tall man from before and an unknown young woman following close behind him. Stiles tightened his grip on his child and pulled her even closer, as if he could shield her from all evil. Allison's head rested comfortably over his erratically beating heart. His heartbeat thumping so loudly in his own ears Stiles worried for a fleeting moment that it would wake his daughter.

"What do you want now?" Stiles hissed with anger. He may be willing to cooperate for the sake of his child, but that didn't mean he would make it pleasant for his kidnappers. "You already got your picture to torment the people who care about us. What more could you possibly want?"

The man with jaw-length black hair took a seat once more in front of Stiles. "I do apologize for the need of that photograph. It is the most expedient way to move things along."

"You mean to get what you want." Stiles countered easily.

The man's eyes narrowed barely, but it was the woman that spoke gently. "Forgive, Caleb. Sometimes he gets overly wrapped up in his own head that he can't be bothered with manners. I'm Helen Steele and this is one of my best friends Caleb Westmore. I promise you that both you and your daughter will not be harmed. Any further that is." She finished gesturing towards the head wound Stiles had suffered.

"Unless harming you becomes necessary. Know now, that I will do whatever it takes to achieve my goal, Mr. Stilinski."

Helen rolled her eyes. "Caleb." She ground out in annoyance, flicking his ear suddenly, prompting a glare from the man.

Stiles watched the exchange in astonishment, completely unsure of what to think. Seeing the way the two interacted with each other reminded Stiles so much of his and Scott's relationship. There was clearly a familiarity there. One that stemmed from many years of friendship. "Listen, my dad is the Sheriff. I've seen the whole good cop bad cop routine. I've been the recipient of it many a times, and you're not even close to as good as my dad at it. You might want to give it a rest."

Helen chuckled. "Oh I like you. Alright Caleb, get out."

Caleb's blue eyes narrowed, but the tall man didn't argue as he slowly rose from his chair, and left without comment.

Stiles watched Helen warily as she made her way closer to him and his daughter, holding a wooden box in her slight hands. Unexpectedly, the woman sat down next to Stiles on the bed and reached towards him.

The dark-haired man flinched away. "What are you doing?!"

Helen pulled her sun-kissed hands back swiftly with Stiles' reaction, holding them raised in a placating manner. "Sorry! I didn't think. I'm just going to treat your head wound. It's still bleeding and I think you might need a stitch or at least a butterfly bandage."

Stiles eyed Helen with deep distrust. "Why?" He croaked out, all too aware of how weak he suddenly sounded.

The petite woman readjusted her glasses, looking away in shame. "I know you won't believe this. Honestly, I don't think I would if our positions were switched. But…we really don't want anyone to get hurt. This plan…it's desperate, yes, but it's our last chance."

"For what?" Stiles urged, hoping to get more information. The more he knew the easier it would be to formulate an escape plan.

Helen smiled sadly before looking down at Allison. "She is beautiful. How old is she?"

As a reflex the young father tightened his hold protecting his daughter once more. After a moment he shifted to make it easier for Helen to reach his head wound, effectively shielding his daughter from view. "Five…she just started kindergarten, and you wouldn't believe how excited she is to go everyday. She'll run all around the house trying to rush me and my wife out the door. She has her entire life ahead of her."

Helen sat back at the underlying accusation, stitching needle in hand. "Nothing will happen to your daughter. I'm not the type of person who will harm a child…none of us are."

"Then let us go. Nothing has happened that can't be undone yet. I can tell you don't want to do this. You seem like a really good person, and I'm a great judge of character. You can asked anyone." Stiles tried to reason.

With surprising gentleness and skill Helen placed two stitches to close the bound man's wound before swiftly cleaning and dressing it. She slowly stood and made her way to the door silently. As her hand grasped the doorknob she turned back to the two captives. "Just do everything we say then we can get what we need, and you and your family can go home unharmed." Once she finished her words the woman left, locking the door securely behind her.

Steeling her emotions, Helen looked back at the closed door once before heading quickly down the brightly lit hallway. The woman made her way into another room at the end of the hall. As soon as she entered the conversation happening ceased and the two men talking looked up at their new arrival.

"It's almost time. You should get ready to leave." Caleb spoke immediately, concern for his friend clear in his blue eyes.

Helen didn't respond but instead moved closer to the other man in the room, taking his chin in her hand, eyeing the beginnings of a bruise "Colin, what happened?"

Colin shrugged his shoulders. "The guy's got a decent right hook."

"Who? Stiles?"

Caleb ran his hand through his black hair. "Helen, you shouldn't get attached to them. We kidnapped the guy and his daughter for Christ's sake!"

"Who says I'm attached?! I'm just trying to keep everything and everyone under control! There is no need for anyone to get hurt. We agreed on that. Remember?"

"Yes I do." Caleb moved in close, standing just in front of Helen, and gazed down at her intensely. "You just need to remember why we're doing this."

Helen's eyes began to water. "I do…you know I do."

"Good. Now go with Colin to pick up our banshee so we can get this over with."

* * *

A calloused hand shifted cream colored curtains aside for the seventh time in the last five minutes. Peering carefully out the window John Stilinski watched for his son's four door navy blue jeep. His worry increasing with every minute that ticked by without any sign or word from him.

Gently a warm hand landed on the man's shoulder and started rubbing small comforting circles. "Still no sign of them?" Melissa McCall asked, craning her neck to see out the window passed John, and frowned.

The aging sheriff pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "No. I haven't heard from Stiles since last night. He was supposed to let me know when he was leaving Scott's."

"Ah, well there you go! I'm sure he and Allison are still at Scott's. They probably got distracted, you know how they are." The curly-haired woman stated matter-of-factly, slapping John's shoulder in a reassuring manner, before turning to make her way back to the kitchen.

John glanced down at his phone. "Yeah…I'm sure you're right." He mumbled to himself unconvinced.

Melissa turned around having still heard John's quiet voice. "You don't think so though. Do you think something is wrong?"

The sheriff turned away from the window. "I…I don't know. Something doesn't feel right."

"Do you want me to call Scott?"

"Would you? I hate to ask. I'm sure I'm just overreacting here."

The nurse smiled. "Oh right, because it is such a chore having to call and talk to my own son! Try to relax John. I'm sure everything is fine." Finishing her words, Melissa pulled out her phone and dialed Scott's number.

After only a couple of rings Scott answered. "Whatever it is I didn't do it!"

"Hello to you too, Scott."

"Hey, Mom. What's up?" The woman's son answered back sheepishly. She could imagine him rubbing the back of his neck absently out of habit, and smiled.

Melissa's soft laughter chimed. "I thought I would send you and Stiles a friendly reminder that little Allison was supposed to be dropped off about an hour ago. I don't think Lydia will appreciate Stiles being late for their anniversary dinner."

"Uh…what? Stiles and Ally never showed up today. I just figured he didn't have time or something. Did you try his phone?"

With her son's words Melissa felt her heart sink, as a few dozen possible scenarios entered her mind, each one progressively worse than the last. "Yeah of course we tried his phone! When was the last time you heard from him?"

It was quiet for a moment before Scott answered, obvious concern seeping into his voice. "Last night. I had dinner at his and Lydia's."

The nurse's eyes connected with John's worried ones. "Last night? So no one has heard from him at all today?!" Her voice shook slightly despite her effort to remain calm.

The sound of rustling fabric came through the phone from Scott's end suddenly. "I'm coming over." He said frantically.

At the same time John brought his own phone to his ear and said. "I'm calling, Parrish. He can tell me if Stiles came into work today."

"Should I-" Melissa started in a shaking voice, but cut herself off, closing her eyes against the situation. She didn't want to believe Stiles or Allison could be hurt or worse. But being a nurse she knew better than most how things can change in the matter of a second. So steeling her emotions, she took a deep breath, and switched into nurse mood. "I'm going to call the hospital. See if anyone matching Stiles and Allison's descriptions have been brought in today."

The sheriff nodded numbly and turned to check out the window one more time, knuckles white from his grip on the phone against his ear.

* * *

Lydia stared blankly ahead as silent tears slid slowly down her face. Her hands shook from their place clasped tightly over her lap. Recoiling sharply as a hand suddenly landed on her knee in what was meant to be a supportive gesture.

"Are you doing okay, Lydia?" Helen asked from beside the strawberry-blonde seated in the back of Lydia's car.

The distraught young woman snapped her furious green eyes at the woman next to her. "What is this the good cop portion of my kidnapping? Is your friend up there going to be the bad cop or is that the role your so-called 'leader' will play? You take my family God knows where, kidnap me from the parking lot of my work, and have the audacity to ask if I'm doing okay! Like you're my friend or somethings! What are you smirking about?!"

Helen chuckled breathlessly. "Nothing…It's just, Stiles also used the good cop bad cop reference when we talked to him."

Lydia shook her head, and looked away. "Why are you doing this to us?" She whispered, emotions tightening her throat.

"Like Colin said, we need a banshee."

Green eyes glared once more. "You could have asked!"

Helen's face took on a much more intense look. "We couldn't risk you refusing to help. You don't have a choice now. If you want to make sure your family in unharmed you will do what we need."

Lydia was so focused on her verbal battle with Helen that she didn't notice the car had come to a stop before the door beside her was wrenched open and she was pulled forcefully out by a tight grip in her upper arm. Stumbling slightly Lydia tried to yank her arm away, but only succeeded in making the black haired man tighten his grip painfully. The young mother knew she would definitely be sporting some deep bruises come tomorrow. If she even survived that long.

"Colin! Ease up a little will ya." Helen scolded as she moved swiftly to the front door.

Lydia turned her attention to where they had taken her and gawked at the massive house. The three-story dark brown home stood tall at the top of a hillside, acres of empty land surrounding the area, making the house and lining forest the only things in sight. It also made it impossible for Lydia to decipher where in Beacon Hills it was located.

The banshee felt a coil of fear wrap its way around her heart the closer each step brought her to the dark house. Lydia feared for what she would find when she was finally taken to her family. Feared that they were hurt more than the small picture suggested. For all she knew they could have killed Stiles and Allison right after the picture was taken. She just needed to see them, hear their voices, and touch them, for herself. Thankfully, Lydia didn't hear any voices warning of their deaths, but that did nothing to quell the fear drowning her.

Standing on the large wrap-around porch was an intimidating man that resembled the one holding Lydia's arm. Colin pulled Lydia to a stop just in front of him as Helen move to stand side by side with the tall man. She smiled encouragingly at their captive before speaking. "Lydia this is our leader, Caleb."

The man ran a hand through his long black hair. "I've never had the pleasure of meeting a banshee. I'm looking forward to working with you, Lydia." Caleb's voice was smooth as he extend his hand in greeting.

Lydia glared at the man, refusing to take his offered hand, and lifted her chin defiantly.

Caleb smirked and used his outstretched hand to motion toward the door. "Right. Well let's go see your family. Shall we?"

* * *

Thanks for reading! Review to let me know what you thought of the chapter or what you think might happen next. I always love reading your reviews and thoughts. They help me write faster! Also if you never want to miss an update click on the follow and/or favorite button. Until next time…


	3. Chapter 3

Hi everyone, I'm back. I've been on a bit of a break from writing for this site as life has gotten incredibly busy for me. I'm not sure if anyone is still following me or my stories anymore after such a long break, but I felt I needed to finish these stories out. Honestly, I hadn't realized just how long it has been since my last update until I recently started rereading my stories. I feel disappointment in myself for not finishing what I started. Because of this, I plan to not only finish this story, but also my outstanding Hobbit story Shadows of the Past. Though, my life is still rather busy I will continue to write as often as possible. Please enjoy!

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Chapter Three

Lydia failed to suppress a surprised gasp as she was led into an exquisite foyer filled with rich woods and luxurious furniture. In a daze, she swept her green eyes up the grand staircase that was aligned directly with the front doors, then over the delicate crystal decorations placed thoughtfully throughout the room. The banshee's attention drifted to the brightly colored, but oddly barren walls.

Stumbling slightly, Lydia moved close to the wall next to her and reached out, fingers grazing over numerous small holes that once held pictures. The hum of voices invaded her ears, but they were too distant to understand. Lydia closed her eyes and tried in vain to focus her hearing enough to understand. She could feel in her heart the words were a warning, but she just couldn't reach them.

A firm grip on the banshee's shoulder jolted Lydia out of her daze and back to the situation at hand. Swiftly, she stepped out of Caleb's reach, and unintentionally backed herself against the wall she was just inspecting. The strawberry-blonde lifted her chin bravely, waiting for whatever the clearly dangerous man was going to do next. However, Lydia faltered slightly when she noticed that Caleb's gaze was not on her, but instead fixed to a blank space on the wall behind her. His blue eyes filled with such deep sorrow that the banshee felt as if she was intruding on something she shouldn't, prompting her to look away.

"Time to see your incentive, Banshee." Caleb spoke coldly and his tight grip returned. Only this time his hand held Lydia's upper arm, leading her passed the stairs and down a brightly lit hallway.

With each step the pair took Lydia's chest tightened more and more in fear, to the point where the banshee worried she would faint from severe lack of oxygen. Throughout all of her many years battling against the supernatural and having her life threatened she never felt such terror as she did now. Her family had to be safe…they just had to be.

Silently, Lydia sent a plea to the universe that everything would be okay as they approached a solid door secured with a keypad lock. As soon as the strawberry-blonde saw the door she knew instantly her family was just on the other side and her heart stuttered. The young mother felt frozen in place, not even realizing the grip on her had vanished, until the door opened inward and she was moving.

* * *

Stiles squeezed his eyes closed against the painful pounding of his head. A dull spike of pain shooting through his skull in perfect unison with the steady beat of his heart. Allison sat securely in Stiles' lap, bound arms holding her close to his chest.

"Daddy! Guess!" The childlike voice urged suddenly.

Startled by the abrupt voice, the dark-haired man realized quickly that he had been drifting off again. Stiles took a steadying breath and lifted his head off the wall to address his daughter. "Right it's my turn to guess. Let's see…what was it you said, Ally?"

The little girl chuckled. "I spy something green, Daddy."

"Green! Of course! I knew that. I just wanted to make sure you remembered." Stiles said with a wink.

Allison shook her head playfully at her Dad's words, and stared up into his eyes innocently, waiting for his answer. The look of pure admiration in her eyes brought about a sudden burning of tears to his throat, making it difficult to swallow. "Right. So something green huh? Is it the stripe on the rug?"

"No."

"Is it the flower on your dress?"

"Nope."

"Is it your eyes again? Ally, you know you can't see your own eyes baby girl." Stiles' voice was soft and his smile affectionate.

The five year old shook her head and giggled. "It's not my eyes, Daddy." She said in a sing-song voice.

Stiles chuckled. "Okay I give up. What is it?"

"The little green light up there!" Allison yelled in triumph, pointing towards the top corner of the room.

Stiles' whiskey-colored eyes followed the direction of his daughter's finger. His smile slipping from his face as he realized she was pointing at the security camera meant to monitor their every move.

Suddenly the noise of the door unlocking sounded. "Allison, get behind me." Stiles urged swiftly, removing his back from against the wall unsteadily.

The door opened and Stiles felt his heart drop further.

"MOMMY!" Allison yelled and bolted out from behind the safety of her dad's back, rushing to her equally fast approaching mother.

Lydia didn't waste even a second after the door was pushed open before she was rushing towards her family. The young mother dropped to her knees halfway through the small room and scooped up her daughter into her arms. Holding Allison close Lydia kissed the side of her head and clung with slightly shaking hands to her crying daughter's back. Shhing her softly, Lydia smoothed Allison's wild hair down, trying to calm down her daughter as well as her own racing heart. The banshee's green tear-filled eyes shifted to connect with Stiles' worried ones, and silently she assessed her husband's condition.

Stiles was pale, his usually sharp eyes were unfocused, and he looked to be leaning heavily against the wall behind him for support. The strawberry-blonde's eyes traveled slowly to the edge of white bandage barely peeking out from behind her husband's ear, and then to his bound hands. Lydia's chest ignited with fury. No one hurt the people she loved.

Allison still in her arms, Lydia stood and moved swiftly to her injured husband's side. The feeling of Stiles' gaze following her every step.

"Are you hurt? Did they do anything?" Stiles asked the moment Lydia sat down, reaching out towards his family.

Lydia frowned, "Shouldn't I be asking you that?" The banshee placed one hand on the side of Stiles' neck. Her fingertips rested against the coarse bandage while her thumb gently caressed his cheek.

Stiles gave Lydia a look that told her she wouldn't be getting any information from him until he was reassured she was unharmed. So the banshee looked her husband squarely in the eyes and answered his question steadily. "I'm fine. They didn't do anything other than bring me here and show me that stupid picture. A picture, I might add, that sent me completely out of my freaking mind with worry the moment I saw it. Now it's your turn. How bad is your head? And if you say 'I'm fine' like you always do I will knock you upside the head; concussion or not."

Stiles chuckled softly before wincing. "This one could breech the top three I think. Definitely in the top five." He answered, leaning into his wife's touch.

After a moment Lydia's attention moved from her husband's face to his bound hands. "Do you think we can find a way to get them off?"

A ghost of a smile lifted at the corner of Stiles's mouth. "I'd say, that is less than likely."

The strawberry-blonde raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Stiles reopened his eyes and frowned, having not realized he had closed them again, before answering. "Unless one of us suddenly gains the power of witchcraft or whatever this is I don't think these things are coming off."

As he spoke Stiles lifted his hands and turned them so Lydia could see a small glowing mark etched into the cuffs near the keyhole. Stomach dropping, the banshee felt a sudden tightness in her chest at the new revelation, and tried desperately to swallow down her panic.

"Well, we'll just have to think of something then." She whispered stubbornly.

The two connected their gazes, wanting nothing more than to believe those words. To believe they could figure this situation out. Just like all the other difficult times in their life.

Stiles leaned in close, Lydia mimicking his movement on instinct, bringing them together in a soft kiss. Pulling back just enough to look into his wife's eyes once more. Stiles spoke with quiet determination. "You're right. Together we can figure anything out."

The moment was broken as Caleb made his presence known. "As touching as this moment is, I think it's time we discuss the reason I've brought you all here."

"It doesn't take a genius to figure out what you want." Stiles' voice held his contempt as Caleb moved closer to the small family, with hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"Is that right?"

Lydia didn't like the predatory look Caleb was directing towards her husband, and immediately tried to turn his attention to her instead. "The Nemeton. You want to find the Nemeton. That's why you need me... a banshee."

The black-haired man smirked. "Well, I heard you were both the clever ones in your pack, but I am still quite impressed by your deduction skills. Though, growing up as the son of a sheriff must have helped with that. Am I right?"

"Yeah it did, which is why you made a huge mistake. My dad is going to set the entire Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department on your ass, and that's not even mentioning the very pissed off alpha werewolf that's going to be gunning for you! I can guarantee they both already know something is wrong and are looking for us."

As Stiles spoke, Caleb slowly lowered himself into a chair across from the bed and leaned back, one leg propped up on his other knee, completely at ease. "I'm not all that worry about it."

"Maybe you should be." Lydia snapped.

Their captor was quiet for a moment as his analyzing gaze swept over Lydia with an unnerving look in his blue eyes. "You know, I think you both have me wrong. I'm not really a bad guy. I'm just… resourceful."

Lydia and Stiles each sent the man a look of disbelief, prompting Caleb to continue. "I can see you don't believe me, so as a show of good faith I'm going to let you, Lydia, take lovely little Allison to her grandfather's house while Stiles stays here with me. You will come back, bring me to the Nemeton, and then you and your husband can be on your way."

With her captor's words Lydia felt a rush of conflicting emotions. She felt a joyful hope that her daughter was going to be safe, but also a cold terror at having to leave the man she loves behind and in danger. She knew she had to do something. "Listen, I already told you I would take you to the Nemeton. So please…let Stiles take Allison to his dad's."

"Lyds." Stiles warned quietly before he was cut off with a sharp laugh, making Allison cling tighter to her mother.

"I suppose you're not quite as smart as I thought. Obviously, I can't release both of your loved ones. I do still need some leverage for motivational purposes. I don't plan on underestimating a banshee's power. Though, if you'd prefer I keep your daughter...well that's entirely up to you."

"NO!" Both Stiles and Lydia shouted in panic at the same moment. Lydia pulled her daughter closer while Stiles leaned in front of the two like a shield.

"Please don't…I'm sorry. I'll take her." Lydia continued with tears finally escaping his glistening green eyes.

"Excellent!" The man exclaimed, clapping his hands together with a loud crack. He stood from his seat and pulled a wicked looking knife from a holster at his hip. The shining metal had a line of symbols etched down one side of the blade that started to faintly glow the moment Caleb's skin made contact with the hilt. Without hesitation Caleb used his free hand to grab Stiles, pulling him off the bed and away from his family, bringing him to his chest.

"What are you doing?!" Lydia screamed at the same time Allison shrieked, "DADDY!"

Stiles struggled against the sudden attack, but stilled as the oddly warm blade touched his throat, causing him to pull in a sharp breath.

"Relax. This is just a precaution. I don't want to give you any opening to escape. Like I said, I'm not planning on underestimating a banshee as powerful as you."

Lydia felt like her heart was about to punch its way out of her chest. "I'm not stupid you know. I would never do something that would put my family at risk."

Caleb smiled, "Precisely."

"Leave my daddy alone!" Alison cried, clinging to her mother tightly, as thick tears traveled down her reddened cheeks.

Stiles' completely calm voice carefully sounded through the chaos, in an attempt to steady his family. "Allison, what do we say about our family all the time? Do you remember?"

The small child nodded her head as tears still slid steadily down her face.

"Good…that's good." Stiles forced a smile before continuing. "Our family will always protect each other no matter what and no matter how far away we are from one another. Right?"

"Right." Allison answered back through her tears, hiccuping slightly as she began to calm down.

The door opened loudly and Connor stepped through the threshold. Lydia felt her chest seize in panic, but as her frantic gaze connected with her husband's steady one she felt her strength return.

With her chin held high, Lydia moved forward, stopping just in front of Stiles and Caleb. "Behave yourself while I'm gone, which will only be for an incredibly short amount of time. I will be back for you as quickly as I can be, so try not to annoy your hosts too much. I'd like to come back to you in the same condition I'm leaving you in now."

"Ah you know me, Lyds. I can't promise that I won't have driven them completely crazy by the time you're back."

"I learned long ago that you can do anything you set your mind to, Stiles Stilinski." Lydia said firmly as she tried and failed to keep her gaze away from the dangerous blade resting against her husband's throat. "Behaving shouldn't be too difficult." She finished, eyes connecting once more.

Stiles smirked, "hurry back."

Lydia kept her sight locked firmly on her husband as Connor gripped her upper arm and pulled the banshee and her daughter from the room. The strawberry-blonde's eyes stung from the length of her stare, only bringing relief in the form of a blink after the door snapped closed, separating her from Stiles.

Connor released his hold on Lydia and gave his charge a moment to collect herself. Doubt started to claw its way into the black-haired man's mind as a feeling of guilt washed over him. "My brother is a passionate man with a lofty goal…but he isn't a bad person. As long as you help us your husband will be fine."

Lydia sharply turned to glare at her captor. "You don't get to take the high ground! I hate to break it to you, but all of you are bad guys, because good guys don't kidnap people. Now let's go so I can get my husband back."

With her words, Lydia turned towards the door and strode from the house in typical Lydia Martin fashion.

* * *

Thank you for reading! Please leave a review to let me know what you thought of the chapter. I'm very interested in seeing how many people are still reading my story. If you like what you read hit the follow and/or favorite button. Until next time!


	4. Chapter 4

Hello all. I hope you enjoy this new chapter. Thank you to everyone who has followed and favorited this story and me as author! I also want to give a big thanks to all that have taken the time to review this story! I really appreciate all of your support. Enjoy!

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Chapter Four

Stiles just barely managed to brace himself against the wall, with bound hands, as Caleb tossed him aside the moment the door closed. The room spun from the sudden movement and a wave of nausea worked to overwhelm the young man's senses. Feeling Caleb's cold gaze, Stiles willed the nausea away and glared at the man.

"So what happens now?"

Caleb tilted his head slightly. "As I said, we wait for your wife to return."

Using the wall for support, Stiles stood to fully face his captor. "Right, because I completely believe the whole 'I'm not a bad guy' speech."

Slowly a smile stretched across Caleb's face as the man toyed absently with his knife. "I guess you're right. I'm not one of the good guys anymore. I used to be. I used to do the whole sacrifice for the greater good, save the world, no matter the cost."

Stiles eyed the man. "Kidnapping is a real step in the opposite direction. What happened?"

"The cost became too high." He answered back sharply.

From Caleb's tone, Stiles could tell he was pushing too far, but he also knew he was getting closer to the answers he needed. "Too high? Is whatever happened the reason you want the Nemeton or just the reason you decided to throw your morals away?"

Caleb ignored Stiles' questions and casually checked his watch. "Your wife and daughter should be gone by now."

An uneasy feeling crawled over the young man at his captor's words. With more difficulty than he'd like Stiles backed as far away from Caleb as the small room allowed. "You know that Lydia won't help you if I'm dead."

"No she won't, because she loves you." The black-haired man finished his words with cold eyes connecting steadily with his captive's.

Without another word Caleb lunged for his hostage. Stiles threw himself sideways to avoid the attack, slamming painfully against the opposite wall. The young man recovered quickly and stumbled unsteadily towards the door. He only managed to make it a few steps before the strong force of Caleb's body struck his middle, tackling him to the ground from behind.

The awkward landing sent a shock of pain through Stiles' left wrist, causing him to cry out. Caleb paid his captive's pain no mind as he wrangled the young man's struggling form onto his back and pinned his bound hands.

Completely trapped, Stiles could do nothing more than shout in frustration and struggle uselessly against the man pinning him to the ground. After about a minute of unsuccessful attempts to dislodge his captor Stiles had to smother down the feeling of a panic attack rising in his chest. The young man's struggle intensified when Caleb began mumbling what sounded like an incantation, causing the glowing symbols on the blade of his dagger to burn brighter with each word spoken. Stiles searched the surrounding area in the hopes of finding something…anything that could help him, but there was nothing.

The two had landed in the middle of the room too far from anything that Stiles could use to get a little more leverage to dislodge the larger man. It didn't take Stiles long to come to the conclusion that without the use of his hands there was nothing he could do. He was completely at his captor's mercy

Unexpectedly, the young man's frantic struggle halted and eyes widened, as Stiles watched his kidnapper slice open his own hand. Confusion filled his whiskey-colored eyes as they followed the blood travel down, slowly curling around Caleb's pale raised arm. After only a moment, the blood covering his captor's hand shifted, morphing into a symbol, much like the ones displayed on the blade.

Abruptly, Caleb stopped his chanting and the room fell into an eerie silence. Stiles held his breath, unsure what was happening, but knew whatever it was couldn't be good.

Before his captive had a chance to react Caleb thrust his hand down onto Stiles' chest. An agonized scream ripped from Stiles' throat and his body arched upwards in tremendous pain, until blissful unconsciousness took him.

* * *

Scott entered swiftly through the front door of John Stilinski's home, Malia only a step behind him.

John jumped to his feet the moment the door opened. "Did you find them?!"

"No." Scott answered back immediately.

The sheriff's face fell.

Scott moved closer to the man he thought of as a father. "We did find their trail outside Ally's school, and followed it until we lost it."

John took a step towards the young man, throwing his hands in the air. "Lost it?! How could you lose it?!"

Malia pointedly positioned herself next to Scott. "There was nothing we could do. Their scent just vanished. It was like standing in a well lit room and someone suddenly turned off the lights and threw a bag over our heads."

"It's the same with Lydia." The steady voice of Derek Hale sounded from the space between the living room and kitchen having just entered the house through the back kitchen door, and joined the small group.

Chris Argent followed just behind the werewolf. "None of my contacts have heard anything either. I'm sorry, John."

Sheriff Stilinski pinched the bridge of his nose, and dropped back heavily into the chair he just vacated. Scott paced the room desperately, looking around as if the answer was somewhere just within reach. Malia carefully watched her boyfriend Scott's every step with concern, but didn't make a move to stop him. Derek leaned, with arms crossed, against the wall as he tried and failed to look unaffected by the situation.

"Okay, so what now?" Melissa asked, looking around at the gathered group. Her gaze swept from face to face of each person there, knowing every one of them cared for Stiles, Lydia, and Allison. They were a family. When no one answered Melissa continued, "Come on…someone has to have an idea. We know they aren't at the hospital, we know where they were last seen, and we now know that someone or something is masking their scent."

"Melissa is right. We know more now than we did a few hours ago, and that's something." Chris' deep voice spoke, hoping to rally the group, but only ended up angering John.

"We're still no closer to finding them!"

The seasoned hunter made his way further into the room towards his distraught friend. "John, I know you're upset, but we've eliminated a few different possibilities, which does get us closer to finding them."

The aging sheriff ran shaky hands through his hair, exhaling forcefully, in an attempt to calm down. No matter what he tried, all John Stilinski could think about was how he was failing his son. Whoever or whatever had Stiles and his family could be harming them as they all sat around talking and there was nothing they could do to help them.

In frustration, John threw his left hand to the side, knocking a glass of water from the end table next to him and into the wall. The cup shattered with a loud crash and pieces of glass littered the floor. "Right! So now we know that someone or some creature took them intentionally. They took my son, my daughter in-law, and my only grandchild, and we have no idea why." He slumped in his seat, the fight draining from his body. "We don't even know if they'll still alive."

"Scott would know if they were dead. Especially, with the close connection he has with Stiles." Derek was quick to reassure John.

The sheriff nodded his head slightly, clearly holding back tears. Suddenly, all the werewolves in the room looked towards the front of the house at the exact same moment.

Always observant, Chris Argent tensed up immediately, and reached for his pistol. "What is it?"

"A car just pulled up." Scott answered quickly.

Derek finished the true alpha's thought, moving towards the large window. "With someone we can't smell."

Before Derek was able to reach and pull back the curtains the front door opened inward. Everyone in the room stood at the ready for a probable fight. None of them expected it to be Lydia that stepped through the door carrying Allison tightly to her chest. Relief washed over the room, but was almost immediately doused as an unknown man with dark spiky hair and stern expression followed just behind them.

Reacting quickly, Scott pulled Lydia and Ally behind him and roared threateningly at the unknown man. His eyes blazed the deep red of an alpha, fangs extended, and claws ready to defend his pack members.

"Scott no!" Lydia placed her delicate hand on the tense alpha's shoulder blades, her voice filled with desperation.

In a haze of confusion and worry, Scott ignored the banshee's plea and gripped the front of the intruder's grey v-neck, snarling. "Who are you?"

Colin's accelerated heart-rate and sharp intake of breath was the only sign he was affected by the raging alpha threatening him. Instead of answering Scott the spiky-haired man pulled his blue eyes to Lydia. "You might want to get your guard dog off me."

Lydia stepped next to Colin and looked Scott directly in the eyes as everyone watched in confusion, no one knowing what to do. "Scott, you have to let him go. They still have Stiles and they'll hurt him if you don't stop."

At the mention of Stiles, Scott's grip tightened. "Where is he?!" He roared.

"Scott stop…please!" Lydia's voice broke over the last word as tears began to fill her eyes. Finally the true alpha listened and dropped his hold. He stepped back, and gently pulled Lydia back with him, creating distance between them and the stranger.

John swiftly joined them and enveloped Lydia and Allison into an embrace, his voice rough with worry. "Thank God you two are safe. Who the hell is this and where's Stiles? What's going on?"

"John-" Lydia started but Allison's urgent voice interrupted.

"They hurt daddy! Grandpa you have ta get him!"

Allison's crying fueled the anger swelling inside Scott further and the true alpha once again made to move towards Colin, eyes burning red. It was only the solid hand Derek placed on Scott's chest that stopped him. The hand grounded the raging werewolf, reminding him to take a calming breath. As he exhaled the red slowly faded from his eyes and he sent a nod of thanks to Derek.

"Lydia?" Scott's soft and restrained voice prompted.

Holding Allison close Lydia looked around the room at the people she considered family, settling on her father in-law's face, before speaking. "They want the Nemeton, and they're threatening Stiles to make me bring them to it."

"They? How many are there?" Chris asked, as his mind already worked to configure a plan.

The strawberry-blonde turned her defeated green eyes to the retired hunter. "As far as I know three, but none of you can do anything."

Scott turned his back on the stranger for the first time and looked at Lydia in shock. "What do you mean we can't do anything?! Stiles is my best friend! We're not just going to sit around and hope that they let you both go!"

Lydia passed her daughter carefully to Melissa and stomped to Scott's side. "Look McCall! I know all of you want to help, but if I don't go back with him alone, and soon, Stiles is going to be the one who pays for it. Whoever these people are; they have promised to let us go after I help them reach the Nemeton. I don't entirely trust them, but their leader let me bring Ally here as a show of good faith, so maybe they're telling the truth."

"Maybe?! Lydia I'm going to need more than a maybe here." John said desperately, gripping the banshee's shoulders.

Looking her father in-law in his stormy eyes Lydia whispered on the verge of tears. "I know." She then brought her arms up and wrapped them securely around John's body in a tight hug.

Colin finally shifted himself from the wall. "We should go. Caleb isn't as patient as he used to be."

Scott stepped between Lydia and Colin as soon as she pulled herself away from the sheriff. "No. This can't be our move. We can figure something else out. That's what we do."

"Not this time, Scott. There's just too much at stake. Take care of Allison will you? She's scared." Lydia moved in close to the true alpha, voice steady, and gaze meaningful as she continued. "Maybe Parish will play hide and seek with her. You know how much she likes that, even-though he always finds her."

Colin reached out his hand and grabbed hold of Lydia's arm once again as she moved around Scott. "It would be wise to listen to your banshee and not try any ill-advised rescue attempts. If everyone does as they're told you'll have you pack members back in a few hours and this situation will just be another story to add to your collection."

John glared. "If even one hair is out-of-place on either of their heads, I'm coming for you and your friends, and I won't stop."

Colin's steps faltered. "I believe you. Now believe me when I say that if any of you get in our way you will regret it, and we'll know if you try something."

Like statues the room's occupants watched as their friend was pulled from the house, not knowing if it was the last time they'd see her alive. As soon as the door closed Scott turned sharply to John.

"Call Parish. Get him here as soon as you can."

Malia let her crossed arms drop. "Why? We should following them right now!" She pushed her way towards the door with determination displayed on her face.

Scott caught Malia at the elbow, halting her progress. "Parish can find them. His hellhound can find Lydia and the Nemeton. That's what Lydia was telling us. She gave us all the information we need to save them."

John hung up his phone, having not waited for Scott's explanation, and spoke firmly to the group. "Parish is almost here."

Without another word John left the room and made his way to the hallway closet with Scott, Derek, Malia, Argent right on his heels. With practiced ease the aging sheriff opened the closet's double doors, revealing a locked metal cabinet that he swiftly opened with a combination. Inside the cabinet numerous weapons were stored, boxes of ammunition lined the bottom, and protection charms hung off hooks attached to the inside of the doors.

Despite the seriousness of their situation Scott huffed out a laugh. "Stiles made you a supernatural fighting cabinet too?"

Argent's critical eye scanned the content inside the closet. "Impressive."

John felt the corners of his lips lift into a fond smile. "This is the original. Stiles made it just before he left for college. He said, 'Dad your supernatural preparedness is atrocious' so he made me this, and it quickly became his go-to house warming gift." The smile faded into worry. "I don't know what I'll do if I lose him."

John felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to find Scott, who was a second son to him, with determination in his eyes. "We won't lose him."

The worried father gave a firm nod of his head before turning back to the weapon's cabinet and pulling out a pistol.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Make sure to follow/favorite this story to stay up-to-date on each new chapter uploaded. As always if you like what I'm writing follow and favorite me as an author, and leave a review to let me know what you thought of this new chapter. Until next time!


	5. Chapter 5

Hi again! Thank you to everyone that took the time to review last chapter! I would also like to thank everyone that has added me and my story to their follow and/or favorite lists. I really appreciate the wonderful feedback and support! Sorry for the delay on this update. I'm an Irish dancer and the month of March is always a busy one for me with all the show we perform at for St. Patrick's Day. I hope you enjoy this new chapter.

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Chapter Five

Helen readjusted her square glasses, and tucked one of her shorter layers of caramel-colored hair behind her ear with one hand. Her other hand held a takeout bag, tinted down the sides by grease, while the same arm pinned two bottled waters to her body. The woman's light brown lace-up boots clacked quietly against the wood paneled floor, pausing for only a moment as Helen typed in the unlock code for the door before her. After the audible click of the lock unlatching sounded, the young woman twisted the knob and carefully pushed the door open, stepping through it with a smile.

"Stiles, I come bringing food, water, and aspirin!" Helen called out brightly, but her smile slipped into a frown upon seeing the young man unconscious and stretched out on the bed. Worry immediately settled in the pit of Helen's stomach, causing her to move further into the room swiftly and quietly. The door swung back the moment the young woman moved, however, there wasn't enough momentum in the swing to connect the latch; leaving a small opening in the threshold.

With a slight shake in her sun-kissed hands, Helen deposited the supplies she was carrying onto an end table at the foot of the bed and pulled her phone from her jeans. The sound of frantic typing filled the small space as Helen looked up concussions on WebMD. Anxiously fiddling with her glasses the short-haired woman scanned the document on the illuminated screen her gaze glued to 'possible blood clot symptoms' at the middle of the webpage.

Breathing in sharply, Helen knelt next to Stiles and checked for a pulse. She sighed in relief when a steady thump answered against her finger tips, and began trying to rouse the young man. "Stiles…Stiles I'm not sure it's a great idea for you to sleep just yet. You should probably be check by an actual medical professional before you do that."

When Stiles still showed no signs of waking or movement of any kind Helen reached again for her phone. "Maybe we should bring Melissa McCall in to check you over." She mumbled.

"Don't." Stiles' rough voice sounded with difficulty, "Leave Melissa out of this."

Helen leaned closer, upper body positioned over the young man, concerned eyes sweeping over his face. "I'm out of my depth here. I can place a stitch here and there, but concussions-" the young woman sighed and sat back on her heels. "Head wounds are serious. She won't be hurt."

"I'm fine. You don't need to bring any more people I care about into this." Stiles snapped as he sat up, rubbing his chest. The metal cuffs securing Stiles hands clanked together with the action.

Helen watched him a moment longer in silence, before looking away in shame and nodding. She stood slowly and made her way back to the supplies. "I brought you something to eat and some aspirin. Though, you'll have to eat before taking the medicine-"

The rest of Helen's words faded away as Stiles warm eyes noticed an odd line of light on the opposite wall. He followed the light along the floor to the still slightly opened door. Head snapping back to Helen's back, Stiles checked to make sure she was distracted before carefully standing from the bed and inching as silently as possible towards the exit. He made it all the way to the door, hands grasping at the cold knob, when the cuff on his right wrist knocked loudly against the metal.

Knowing he was caught Stiles yanked the door opened the rest of the way just as Helen called out to him. Stumbling, the injured man threw himself through the threshold and slammed the door closed, just barely catching a glimpse of the shocked face of his not-so-horrible kidnapper. Stiles didn't waste any time in his escape, as he knew Helen would be right behind him. The young man stumbled towards the front door at the other end of a long hallway, bouncing against the walls every few steps.

Stiles broke through the front door and brisk fall air hit his face. He fell back against the sturdy wood and took a second to get his bearings, but what he saw made his heart plummet. The sun was mostly set with just the last bit of light shining, there was nothing around the massive house besides a forest the young man didn't recognize, and the only path to be seen was the long driveway that stretched who knows how far beyond the trees.

The sound of running footsteps pulled Stiles from his thinking, unsteadily he pushed himself away from the door and bolted in the direction of the forest. It may not be ideal, but at least he had a chance of hiding amongst the trees.

Helen burst though the door. "Stiles wait!"

Not looking back Stiles tried to push his legs to move faster, willing his body to cooperate with what his mind wanted. Abruptly, the young man was thrown back across the dying grass by a shimmering purple barrier, much like werewolves and mountain ash. He slammed painfully to the ground, trying to brace his fall Stiles landed on his bound hands and rolled to a stop, crying out in pain.

"What the hell?!" The injured man gasped between heavy breaths.

Helen carefully approached Stiles like a wounded dog, hand stretching towards him in a non-threatening manner. "I'm sorry I tried to warn you. Are you alright?"

Stiles carefully rolled from his back to his side, facing Helen, and looked down at his swollen wrist, teeth clenching against the stabbing pain. The young man cradled his injured wrist and took a few measured breaths, trying to control the overwhelming pain he was in, before glaring at up at Helen. "Why do you care?! I'm dead anyways!"

The tan woman sighed and dropped to her knees to be closer to Stiles level. "No you're not. After Lydia helps us you'll both be released. You just have to trust me." She reached forward to help him up. "Come on."

Just as soon as Helen's sun-kissed hands brushed against Stiles pale ones he yanked himself away harshly. "What's this then?!" With his words Stiles pulled at the collar of his shirt, exposing a symbol burned into his skin just above his heart.

Helen's hands dropped by her side and fell to the ground as she stared disbelieving at the mark. "I…what-"

"I don't know much about supernatural rituals or magic or whatever the hell this is, but to me…it looks like I'm a sacrifice." Stiles' voice held a sense of resignation.

Shaking her head frantically in denial, Helen's voice lowered but held a firmness. "No…no we agreed…no one was going to be hurt. You're wrong." She finished confidently.

Stiles looked at her sadly. "I think you know I'm not."

"Helen! What happened?" Caleb's sudden shout from the front porch caused Stiles to cover the symbol once more and drop to his back in defeat.

Still shocked Helen didn't respond to her friend until a cry of pain jolted her from her racing thoughts as Caleb kicked Stiles in his side.

"Caleb stop! He didn't get past the barrier. It's fine." The young woman tried to calm the raging man.

"Fine?!" Caleb raised his voice and glared at his friend. "He not only made it out of the room but all the way out here. He is too damn important to the plan to let him escape! And I'm going to make sure it can't happen again."

Before Helen had a chance to ask what he meant, Caleb slammed his foot down ruthlessly on Stiles' leg, snapping the bone. The scream that ripped from the young man's mouth struck a terrible feeling of horror straight into Helen's core as she looked at her longtime friend, but for the first time saw someone she couldn't recognize.

Leaping to her feet Helen pushed Caleb away from the injured man. "What's wrong with you?!"

Caleb squared his shoulders. "I can't have him escaping; now it's impossible for him to."

"You could have just chained him to the bed. You didn't have to break his freaking leg!" The woman shouted, before lowering her voice. "Who are you? The friend I've known for most of my life would never do this to someone."

The spark of anger drained from Caleb's icy blue eyes. "You're right."

Caleb pushed passed Helen and knelt beside Stiles who recoiled with the proximity. The quick movement extracted another shout of pain from the man.

"Caleb leave him alone." Helen said quickly moving to pull her friend back.

The black-haired kidnapper held up one hand to halt the concerned woman. He then used that hand to steady Stiles knee, effectively holding him in place, as the other hand wrapped around the broken bone.

"I get it okay! No more running. Just stop." Stiles choked out in pain.

Ignoring his captive's plea Caleb held tightly to the broken bone and began mumbling something under his breath.

The warmth of his captor's touch intensified unnaturally to an almost uncomfortable temperature, the pain increasing along with it. Stiles's clenched his teeth to keep from crying out again as his body trembled. Just before the discomfort reached an unbearable degree the pain leaked away gradually, until only the warmth of Caleb's touch remained.

It was an unnatural feeling to have your bone forcefully mended by magic, and Stiles wondered fleetingly if that was how it felt to have werewolf healing abilities. He quickly decided against that thought though. The feeling of Caleb's healing touch was uncomfortable and entirely unwelcome as if a part of his being was invaded by the other's. He could feel the magic force it's way underneath his skin and manipulate his body to heal in a way it could not naturally.

Not giving his captive a chance to recover from his intrusive healing magic Caleb yanked Stiles to his feet and dragged him back towards the house with Helen trailing just behind them. He roughly deposited the young man on the bed in a seated position and held him there.

"Get the chain." Caleb ordered Helen.

The young woman ran from the room before coming back quickly with the desired ankle cuff and chain. When she reentered her eyes took in the way both Caleb and Stiles were glaring at each other and hurried to lock the young father in place before anything could happen between them.

Once the click of the cuff sounded Caleb released his hold on Stiles and left the room without a word. Helen turned to follow him but her steps faltered as Stiles strained voice sounded.

"Do you still think your friend is filled with noble intentions?"

The brown-haired woman looked back wanting nothing more than to reassure Stiles, but she had no words to say. Her chest felt tight from everything that just happened as her mind raced with uncertainty and confusion.

Stiles seemed to understand her silence, so instead of commenting further he just dropped his head in his hands and curled in on himself. The sight of the strong man looking so utterly defeated caused Helen's eyes to suddenly blur and her throat to burn with the coming of tears. Turning away sharply, Helen left the small room that she now recognized as nothing more than a cage, without another word. What could she say to the man she helped kidnap and possibly condemned to death?

Helen heard a door upstairs close and assumed Caleb locked himself in his room, so she couldn't question him or his actions further. The young woman felt at a loss of what to do. Pulling her phone out she typed in her passcode and brought up Colin's contact page. Thumb hovering over his phone number she halted. Still holding her phone tightly she looked up towards the top of the stairs and then to the closed office door. Stiles' words replayed in her mind, _"To me…it looks like I'm a sacrifice."_ She clicked the lock button on her phone and entered the office.

Helen Steele took a moment to look around, back pressed against the door. "I can't believe I'm doing this." She mumbled under her breath.

Brown and black speckled eyes landed on a large stack of papers and folders balancing precariously on the edge of the cherrywood desk. Gracefully the young woman slipped around the desk and quickly rifled through the various paper, and folders. When she found nothing useful she began opening drawers and flipping through the pages of a handful of books in a rush, searching for anything to tell her what Caleb was planning. Anything explaining the mark on Stiles' chest.

So engrossed in her task Helen didn't notice the door open silently until Caleb cleared his throat, startling the young woman. "Caleb! I'm going to get you a freaking bell to wear for Christmas this year." She declared, breathing quickly along with her accelerated heart rate.

"I'm not sure if I should be offended you're rifling through my stuff or disappointed you didn't do so sooner. Blind faith was never your strong suit."

Sighing Helen dropped the book from her hands. "What exactly is this ritual you're planning to do with the Nemeton?"

Waving his hand dismissively, Caleb entered the room, closing the door behind him. "You don't need to know. You trust me don't you, Helen?"

"I want to, but you're not giving me a lot of reasons to here." Helen answered back while readjusting her glasses anxiously.

Caleb's steps faltered halfway to the desk. "Helen?" He whispered his voice betraying how much her statement hurt him. "You have known me for years. You just meet him today!"

"I saw the mark." Determined eyes met guarded ones.

Getting aggravated, Caleb paced the length of the office just in front of the desk, running his hands through his long black hair. "You know how important this is. Why are you questioning me?"

"Just tell me what the hell we're doing here!" Helen shouted as she pushed herself up from the chair to stand.

Caleb stopped his pacing and turned to face Helen. The two friends stood just out-of-arm's-reach of one another, but said nothing as they stared each other down. The shorter of the two crossed her arms and lifted her chin, not backing down. Caleb looked away first, bringing a slight smirk to the young woman's face.

"Fine!" The black-haired man gritted out through clenched teeth. His nostrils flared as he exhaled sharply in frustration.

Helen sat back down slowly and waved at her friend to continue. After taking a few minutes to gather his thoughts, Caleb took a seat across from Helen on the opposite side of the desk and spoke again in a steady voice.

"Magic…it doesn't come without a price. The universe has rules, a balance that it must exist by." The man paused to make sure Helen was following. "To save Grace…Stiles will have to die."

Helen flinched as if struck hard and felt anger flare in her chest. "What?! After everything we've said. I promised him and Lydia that if she helped they'd be fine…they'd be safe, and you're planning to murder him!" She finished, voice raised, and jumped to her feet, turning her back to Caleb.

"Sacrifice. I'm going to sacrifice him." Caleb replied evenly as if his words were justified.

Slowly Helen looked back at her friend disgusted with his words and uncaring attitude. Tears blurred her vision as a sick feeling washed over her. She felt her world shatter as everything she thought she knew began to crumble.

Helen's throat contracted and tears laced through her voice. "Grace would never want this. She would never agree to be brought back from the dead if it meant murdering an innocent man."

It was the wrong thing to say. Caleb slammed his palms against the desk loudly and jumped to his feet. "Don't you dare tell me what my wife would want or not want!"

The distraught woman took a tentative step back, but pressed on. "If you do this she'll hate you."

"At least she'll be alive to hate me!" Caleb closed the distance between them and reached out to grab Helen's arms.

His friend countered his steps until her back hit the wall. Helen's reaction caused a look of disappointment to flash over Caleb's features. Thinking better of his actions the black-haired man let his arms drop to his sides and took a few calming breaths before asking, "Am I going to have a problem with you?"

The upset woman closed her eyes not believing the direction this conversation had taken. She sighed. "Caleb, this is wrong."

"After everything Grace did for you…all the times she saved your life. I didn't think you would be the one to give up on her. I figured you of all people would understand the need to do anything to save her." Strong hands clench into fist by his side as the man became more and more agitated. He couldn't understand why Helen was being difficult.

The color drained from Helen's face. "That's not fair. I haven't given up on her. There just has to be another way; one that doesn't involve murder." Her brown eyes searched for understanding that wasn't there.

"I've been searching for almost a year. If there was another way don't you think I would have found it?"

The slight woman shook her head against the hopelessness of the situation. She closed her eyes causing a tear to escape down her tan cheek.

Caleb finally reached for his friend, resting his hands on her shoulders, his voice filled with desperation. "Helen, I need you to help me bring her back. Please tell me you're with me."

Helen Steele stood still and quiet, lost in memories of the past. Of better days when it was just her, Grace, Caleb, and Colin against the darkness of the world. An effective and efficient team, saving people, and always doing the right thing. After a few moments she reopened her watery eyes, having made a decision, and nodded her head.

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Please review to let me know what you thought of this new chapter. Reviews help me write faster. ;) What did you think of Stiles' escape attempt? Were you surprised to find out the bad guys' ultimate goal? What is Helen going to do? Probably only a few chapters left! As always if you like what I'm writing please hit the follow and favorite button! Until next time.


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